


The Return of John Winchester

by Mayalaen



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Comeplay, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Frottage, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:12:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3523715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayalaen/pseuds/Mayalaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen warned him.  Misha just didn't take it seriously.  Misha doesn't really mind the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Return of John Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate Links: [LJ](http://mayalaen.livejournal.com/33788.html) || [SPNKink-Meme](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/94838.html?thread=36862070#t36862070) || [Mayalaen.com](http://mayalaen.com/fanfic/supernaturalrps/thereturnofjohnwinchester/)

"Jeff really doesn't appreciate smart-ass comments or pranks,” Jensen warned him.

Misha chuckled, assuming Jensen was just messing with him.

That was yesterday. Today Misha is wide-eyed and excited over watching Jeffrey Dean Morgan playing John Winchester. It's something he didn't think he would see, had only dreamed of, but the writers decided to bring him back, and Misha was star-struck.

Misha hears a crash and Jared swearing. He cringes. It was a really good prank, but now that he thought about it, that probably wasn't the best way to introduce himself to Jeff.

Jeff frowns as he watches a disheveled Jared sliding his way closer to Misha, face red, covered in a clear goo.

“Dude!” Jared growls, wiping goo from his face. “Not cool! I just got outta the chair. It took them two hours to get the make-up on these wounds done.”

Misha had expected Jared to be a little pissed, but what he hadn't expected was Jensen's reaction. The man was wincing as he looked in Jeff's direction. Misha forgot about Jared as suddenly his left arm was tightly squeezed by a strong hand. Before Misha could complain, two firm swats landed on his backside.

“Apologize to Jared,” Jeff rumbled in his left ear, “then apologize to the make-up artists. We'll pause filming until you're back.”

Misha stood there frozen for a moment, mouth open wide as his brain tried to catch up with what had just happened.

“Need a little more incentive, kid?” Jeff asked.

“N-no, sir,” Misha said, shaking his head as he started off toward the make-up artists.

He was very grateful for Cas' trench coat. The erection tenting his slacks would've made things really awkward.

*

Misha went to his trailer after his scenes were done for the day. He'd fucked up his lines a whole hell of a lot more than usual and he couldn't stop blushing whenever Jeff was saying his lines. The plot of the episode had nothing to do with anything dirty, but every time Jeff said one of John's lines, it sounded dirty.

He stretched out on his couch, wishing he could have a do-over on the entire day when someone knocked on his door.

“Come in,” Misha said.

“Hi, Misha,” Jeff said.

Misha sat up straight, heart beating faster. “Hi, Jeff,” he said, hoping his voice hadn't given away how nervous he was.

“I wanted to check on you,” Jeff said, a small smile tugging at his lips. It wasn't a teasing smile, rather just that little half smirk, half smile Jeff seems to pull out at the best of times. “The boys know me well enough to put all the pranks on hold while I'm here, but that had to have been a surprise for you.”

Misha felt himself blushing and inwardly cursed himself. Why was he acting like a teenager with a crush? “Ah, don't worry about it. Jensen tried to warn me, but I thought he was joking. It didn't bother me.”

Jeff nodded and took another step closer to the couch. “So did Jensen also warn you about what happens when they lie to me?”

Misha's breath caught in his chest and he squirmed on the couch. “Um, no, not really,” he said, his palms sweaty and itchy. He rubbed them on his slacks nervously.

Jeff chuckled. “I think there's a subtle difference between you and the boys though,” he said, glancing down at Misha's crotch.

Misha flinched, then winced as he sat forward, trying to hide the evidence of just what Jeff was doing to him. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Jeff snorted. “That's lie number two,” he said, holding up his index and middle fingers.

Misha realized there was a mischievous look in Jeff's eyes, and before he could stop his mouth, he blurted, “I don't like getting spanked.”

“Three strikes,” Jeff said, shrugging.

Misha let out a nervous chuckle as Jeff walked up to the couch and sat down to Misha's left. He patted his leg, giving Misha a significant look. Misha hesitated, but only for a moment before crawling onto Jeff's lap and spreading out, ass up.

“Good boy,” Jeff said as he rested his left hand on Misha's back and the right on Misha's ass, kneading his ass gently.

“Ah!” Misha yelped as Jeff brought his hand down hard on his ass. He squirmed, his erection pressing against Jeff's leg.

“With the boys,” Jeff said, kneading Misha's ass again, “it's a punishment. But I wouldn't mind giving you good boy spankings.”

Misha gasped as Jeff smacked his ass again. Jeff's aim was sure and directly in the middle of his ass, which felt amazing and made him squirm on Jeff's lap.

“I can be a really good boy,” Misha said.

“I'm sure you can,” Jeff said as he reached around Misha's waist, slowly so Misha could stop him if he didn't want it, and unfastened Misha's slacks.

Misha moaned as Jeff tugged his slacks and underwear down, slowly so as to make Misha shiver. Jeff hummed appreciatively as ran the tips of his fingers over Misha's ass.

“Can you come like this?” Jeff asked.

Misha whimpered as Jeff's finger ran down his crack. “Yes, sir,” he said, voice breathy.

“Good boy,” Jeff rumbled.

Misha moaned into the couch as Jeff started smacking his ass, right in the middle, keeping up a steady rhythm that was just perfect. He could feel it in his asshole even as his cock was rubbing against Jeff's jeans.

“Count for me,” Jeff said.

“One,” Misha said, hips twitching as he tried to suppress the urge to fuck Jeff's thighs. “Two, ah-mmm, three, four, five, Jeff-mmm, six!”

“Your ass is turnin' a gorgeous shade of light red,” Jeff said as he kept up the pace.

Misha used the momentum of the smacks to fuck Jeff's thighs, becoming bolder in his movements once he realized Jeff wasn't going to stop him. “S-seven! Eight, nine, t-ten, ah-fuck-eleven!”

Jeff's smacks came faster and harder along with Misha's thrusts. “That's my good boy,” Jeff growled.

“Twelve!” Misha yelled, eyes squeezed shut as it all became too much, to wonderful. “Thirteen! Jeff! Oh-J-Jeff! Jeff!”

Jeff kept smacking him as Misha fucked his thighs, hips losing their rhythm as he came, painting Jeff's jeans with his come.

When Misha finally settled, moaning and sated, Jeff gently kneaded his ass cheeks, enjoying the warmth from the spanking.

Misha whined as Jeff pushed him off his lap, keeping hold of Misha's shoulders so he couldn't faceplant onto the carpet. Misha looked up at Jeff, on his knees, confused expression on his face.

“Lick it clean like a good boy,” Jeff said, glancing down at his come-stained jeans.

Misha sucked in a shuddering breath, then leaned forward and used long swipes of his tongue to clean up after himself. When he was finished, he looked up at Jeff again, basking in the approving smile.

“Good boy,” Jeff said, running a finger over Misha's bottom lip.

“Thank you, sir,” Misha said.

“Anytime, kid,” Jeff said.

End


End file.
